


A Musical Saturday

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [254]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 12:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10616820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: An afternoon in early April.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For  
> My beta team: Emila-Wan and Carol  
> Mali Wane for posting to the Master Apprentice ML  
> Travis for posting to the Master Apprentice Archive on AO3   
> Alex for inspiring Arcadia 
> 
> Song lyrics:  
> [The Beach Boys – Fun, Fun, Fun Lyrics](https://genius.com/The-beach-boys-fun-fun-fun-lyrics)  
> [The Drifters – Under the Boardwalk Lyrics](https://genius.com/The-drifters-under-the-boardwalk-lyrics)
> 
> Arcadian references:  
> [A Cruise for Two](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1798030)  
> [Family Cruise](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1819465)  
> [Fifteen Years of Bliss](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1752830)  
> [Summertime Treats](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1907871)  
> [Valentine Sweet Sixteen](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5728579)
> 
> Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan at Dex's Diner:  
> [Two Straws](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1831762)
> 
> To Mali Wane

Their eyes were kind.

Every one of the residents of the Alder Grove Nursing Home felt that the men were there to see each of them alone.

Miss Millicent, especially, felt like she was thriving whenever they came to visit. Their gentle gazes, speaking of a boundless compassion, gave her the strength and courage she needed to endure her ailments.

Professors Masterson and Prentice came in on the first Saturday of every month to sing and play for them on guitar and the banged-up piano in the dayroom. They wore the corduroy jackets they used for teaching but had decided to wear comfortable jeans instead of slacks. Microphones stood on stands in front of their seats, which reminded them of the lectern in the Taton Hall auditorium at Luke. The patients formed a circle around them in their wheelchairs and scooters.

First, the men greeted each person individually and chatted a bit. Then, they took song requests from the crowd and gave a bit of background information on the bands and their music. At Quinn's gentle urging, the audience started to sing along, at first tentatively, then with more confidence. The diversity of voices was beautiful to hear.

Their set included Sloop John B, Under the Boardwalk, The Banana Boat Song, Stand by Me, and many other classics from the 1960s. Many of the people knew the lyrics by heart, so it was easier to coax even the shyest among them to participate. They ended with Fun, Fun, Fun, another song by The Beach Boys, hoping that would leave folks in an upbeat mood. By the final chorus:

"And we'll have fun, fun, fun now that daddy took the T-bird away,"

the professors and their audience were beaming in delight.

The kindness in the eyes of the men and the memories evoked by the music of a happy past brought out the enthusiasm in the residents, and they gave the professors a big round of applause. The men's bows were Jedi-perfect, as if they had learned them from Master Yoda himself. As Quinn was returning his guitar to its case, the activities director of Alder Grove came up to thank them for a wonderful performance and to settle on a schedule for next month's get-together.

The dining-room staff came in with drinks and snacks for everyone, and the professors drank a cup apiece of watermelon lemonade, to soothe their throats, scratchy from singing. Before they left Alder Grove, the men made sure to speak with everybody in the audience, chatting about their progress and hobbies.

In the parking lot, Quinn stowed the guitar in the trunk of the THX and swung into the driver's seat. He rolled the ragtop down to catch the spring breeze. It was a beautiful afternoon in early April, and the possibilities were limitless. "Where to, m'lad?" he asked, before starting the engine.

Ian thought about it for a while, then said, "How 'bout heading over to Milkshake Mike's?" He liked the idea because the lemonade hadn't begun to slake his thirst. When Quinn nodded in agreement, Ian started humming Under the Boardwalk, which was stuck in his head after their sing-along.

When Quinn joined in, they sang it softly together again, just for themselves, and reveled in repeating their favorite verse:

"Under the boardwalk, down by the sea  
On a blanket with my baby is where I'll be."

The song had a special significance to them -- on Kathy and Monty's 15th anniversary cruise in 2014, it had been played on the magical last night at the cocktail party welcoming them back to New Jersey, where they would disembark. And long before that, they'd been treated to a performance by a visiting guitarist at Cream and Sugar, their local coffee house.

Not to mention that the song evoked happy memories of both of their cruises to the Caribbean, where they were right there, "down by the sea, on a blanket" together, body-surfing on sugar-sand beaches. Ian could almost feel the sand warming his skin in Charlotte Amalie, and Quinn could definitely feel his lad warming his skin right now, especially since their elbows were rubbing together on the armrest.

"All of this singing is thirsty work, me boyo," said Quinn. He pulled out of the lot and turned in the direction of the ice-cream shoppe, his stomach rumbling almost as much as his voice.

"Can't decide between a coffee milkshake and a butterscotch sundae," Ian said. He didn't even need his Jedi psychic powers to know what his husband would say to that.

Sure enough, Quinn answered, "Let's share them, little laddie," with an indulgent grin a parsec wide.

Ian enjoyed the ride, with the breeze ruffling the copper spikes of his hair, like the phantom touch of Quinn's fingertips. And Quinn loved driving in the country lanes of their hometown, basking in the currents tousling his chestnut strands. This was the very reason that Quinn had decided to pay a surcharge to the dealer for a ragtop. The Living Force awaited them each time he rolled the top down.

Quinn chose almost instinctively to keep to the back roads on the way to the shoppe, for the pure joy of the ride. When Ian saw him make a turn that would add ten minutes to their trip, he cheered in approval. Quinn didn't glance over, but he echoed the cheer, and it became another chorus in their musical weekend.

There was no traffic to speak of on this Saturday in the late afternoon. They passed an occasional jogger or cyclist on the bike path paralleling the road, and pedestrians were actually more numerous than cars along their route. Flocks of orioles and warblers were migrating to New York for the spring, and their song was a welcome addition to Ian and Quinn's.

Since it was a cool spring day, the natural air conditioning of the breeze kept the professors at a good temperature, despite the warmth of their corduroy jackets. The jeans they wore were twice as heavy as their teaching slacks, so that kept their legs from getting cold. And they even had on their Williamsburg boots this afternoon, a perfect addition in today's climate.

After parking at the lot behind Milkshake Mike's, Ian noticed that no one was eating outdoors since it was a chilly day, despite the afternoon sunshine. So Ian settled onto the bench of a picnic table, where they'd have their privacy, along with the treats to come. The table was across from a dogwood tree that reminded Quinn of the majestic tree outside of Cream and Sugar, the tallest one he'd seen, except for a couple in their back yard. Quinn remained standing, because he was planning to order for them inside the shoppe.

Ian urged Quinn to choose the flavor of the ice-cream scoops in his sundae, but negotiations ensued anyway, since both of them wanted to please each other with a favorite. One scoop of chocolate-hazelnut ice cream and a scoop of vanilla-brownie ended up winning the day. They both decided to hold the whipped cream but get the sprinkled walnuts on top.

Quinn went inside, where he found that all of the booths were full and the noise level was on steroids, with children screaming and running across the tiled floor. He politely suppressed a sigh of relief, delighted that they'd decided to eat outdoors, especially on such a pleasant day. After waiting in line, he placed the order, paid for it, and left a tip in the cup. He was then given a number and told that a waitress would bring their food out to them as soon as it was ready to eat.

He went back to the picnic table and amused Ian greatly by trying to fit his loooong legs under the table, in spite of the fixed redwood bench that didn't allow him any extra room to maneuver. Ian clapped when he finally made it in, his laddie's eyes shining with appreciation at the unexpected display of virtuoso gymnastics, rare in such a giant of a man. Quinn could just imagine what Ian would do -- the amazing moves that he would make -- in the case of such a tight fit. Fortunately, Ian didn't give him time to focus on it, what with his chatter, or Quinn's jeans would've become uncomfortably tight in public. And not for the first time.

"Miss Millicent was as chipper as I've ever seen her today," Ian said warmly, glad to see the 95-year-old woman looking so spry.

Quinn nodded, pleasantly distracted by their conversation. "Yes, 'twas a delight to see. She clapped along to every chorus of Sloop John B."

They chatted about Alder Grove for a couple of minutes, pausing to thank the waitress when she came over with their snack. Additional negotiations followed, as they decided that Quinn would drink half the coffee milkshake first, then give the rest to Ian, and in return get half of Ian's sundae. Luckily, with the temperature so low today, the ice cream wouldn't be melting anytime soon.

However, after the diplomatic niceties were over, they discovered that the waitress had given them two spoons for the sundae and two straws for the milkshake, which were mixed in with the pile of napkins on the tray. This changed their plans instantly. The two straws evoked blissful memories of their date at Rex's Diner on Valentine's Day in 2016. Quinn had given his lad a true 'Sweet Sixteen' celebration last year, replete with a classic teenage date-night dinner -- burgers and shakes for two. But when Ian had finished his own shake, he had insouciantly dipped his straw into Quinn's, unknowingly mirroring what their counterparts long ago in a galaxy far, far away had done on Coruscant.

So the natural thing for Ian to do was to drop a straw into the milkshake right next to Quinn's straw, showing a fine disregard for his own sundae. His grin at its most crooked, Ian gave his husband a merry wink, as he thought of courting Quinn the way he would in a Norman Rockwell painting.

The innocent flirtation that was so much a part of Rockwell's art was on Quinn's mind, as well, another example of their Jedi telepathy. Now there was nothing for Quinn to do but wink back and start sipping the shake, which tasted like a frozen cappuccino. "Mmmmm!" he said, knowing his lad would realize that he made the exclamation because they were sharing the drink, the heavenly taste aside.

Ian made sure to brush his forehead against Quinn's -- just a subtle touch -- when he took his first sip. After all, they were still technically in public, even though the other customers were indoors and far away from them. "Just delicious," he said with gusto, knowing his husband would realize that he made the gesture because he just couldn't resist doing it. Quinn was always his greatest temptation.

With both of them sharing the shake at the same time, it didn't take long to finish it, fortunately for their composure. It would have been so easy to escalate their flirting, but Quinn's reserve and Ian's eagerness to please him made it possible to get through the treat with no further intimacies, except in their fantasies.

Meanwhile, the butterscotch sundae had been sitting on the tray, patiently waiting for them to dip their spoons in. Quinn moved it to the center of the picnic table, so they could share it more easily. The ice cream had melted a bit, softening it to the perfect consistency for them to eat now. This time, Ian had the first taste -- a bite of the vanilla-brownie scoop. He made sure to cover it with butterscotch sauce, so he could enjoy both flavors together.

"Let's learn the chords for Jump in the Line, so we can play it next month," said Ian, between mouthfuls of the sundae.

Quinn took a spoonful of the chocolate-hazelnut ice cream. "That should make our sing-along very lively." 

"Can't wait until we practice it at home," Ian said innocently, even though there was a hint of mischief in his green-blue eyes.

Quinn imagined them dancing together to the calypso song at home, while eating some of the vanilla scoop with butterscotch drizzles. Ian took one more bite of the sundae, then pushed it over to Quinn's side of the table, since he'd had enough. Luckily for Quinn, there was still about a third of it left.

"Two treats are better than one," Ian said indulgently, gesturing at the sundae and the empty milkshake cup.

"That they are, laddie mine, that they are," said Quinn, brandishing his spoon.

Ian sat back to enjoy the afternoon -- the breeze in his hair, the sun on his face, a petal from the dogwood tree drifting into his hair. And, most of all, the sight of his beloved husband relishing every bite of the sundae, his kind eyes radiating contentment with the galaxy around them.


End file.
